Knuckles
by gethsemane342
Summary: It's like always. Everyone always thinks he's a stupid, arrogant idiot. But he could have done anything and been anything. After all, he's Marvel Hoffman.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Hunger Games_

**Rating: **for language and adult themes.

Knuckles

_**Fight**_

_In twenty-five years' time, he will be alone, friendless and unhappy, living on the street. _

Marvel keeps his head high as the teachers tell him, in clear detail, how much trouble he's in and that fighting is a bad thing to do and doesn't he want to say sorry to Spire? He doesn't look at Spire who is sitting next to him and crying softly. Spire made fun of him and he won't take that off anyone. His dad always tells him to always act like the best.

He starts to crack when his mom walks in and says, "Oh, Marvel" in that soft voice she has when his dad is talking at her. He tries to keep his head high but when she asks him why he got in trouble, he has to look away.

He keeps looking at his bloody knuckles as his mom talks to the teachers. When she holds out her hand to him, he takes it and they walk out of the school. They don't go home though. Instead, she takes him to the local park and they sit down.

"Why did you do it, Marvel?"

He can't look at her. "Spire said I was stupid. He said no one liked me and no one'd ever like me and he said I smelled."

"So you hit him?" Marvel carries on looking at his shoes. "Why didn't you walk away?"

"Dad said if someone calls me names to make sure they know who's boss," Marvel mumbles.

His mom sighs. "Marvel, I don't think he meant you should hit them."

"But-"

"Maybe Spire was upset and just wanted to take it out on you. What you should have done was tell a teacher so that Spire knows he can't talk to people like that. If you hit people, you hurt them. And other kids will be scared of you and people won't want to talk to you. It's not the right thing to do."

She's hit the core of Marvel's unhappiness. He was mad at Spire because he was _right_ – kids don't like him. And telling them he'll hit them hasn't made them like him. But his dad wouldn't give him bad advice. He just doesn't know what to do.

"'m sorry."

He feels her hand stroke his hair. He looks up.

"I know, Marvel. You'll go back to school tomorrow and tell Spire you're sorry, right?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And then offer to play with him. See if you can make friends. You just have to be nice."

"Really?" he asks without meaning to. She smiles.

"Really. Come on, Marvel, we'll go home. And ... let's not tell your father about this, OK?"

"OK!"

He smiles as he takes his mom's hand. Maybe she's right. Tomorrow, he'll say sorry to Spire and see if he wants to come over and play. And maybe he'll ask some of the other boys. And they'll be friends. And he'll be happy. If he does this, there are so many more paths his life could take. He wonders what will happen when he is older.

_In twenty-six years' time, he will be Mayor of District 1 and he will be loved by all those he governs._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Defend<strong>_

_In nine years' time, he will be an adult and will defend his family and friends._

He hates it when his parents argue.

He asked his mom why she married his dad once. She said she'd loved him. When he asked his dad why he married his mom, he said she was beautiful. It had been enough at the time. But when his dad shouts at his mom, he wonders whether there was a difference between the answers.

Afterwards, his dad always gives his mom a present and they kiss and act happy. As though nothing has happened. And his dad never shouts at him and only occasionally at Honor.

But this time, his dad is furious. He keeps calling his mom stupid, and a slut. Marvel has already made sure Honor is upstairs because he doesn't want his seven-year-old sister involved. He isn't sure he should be involved either but he knows he's his father's favourite child – he's a boy and he started training for the Games about three years ago. And he's a lot like his dad.

His mom is shouting back at his dad. She does that sometimes and it never lasts long.

"Shut up!" his dad yells. "You think I wouldn't find out what you do behind my back? I have a reputation to maintain and you-"

"That's all you think about, isn't it? What about us? I _love_ you and you accuse me of-"

Marvel sees his dad raise his hand and he immediately leaps in front of his mother. His father's knuckles hit him hard and he crumples to the floor.

"Marvel!" shouts his mom. His dad looks mildly stunned. Then he grabs his son up off the floor.

"What the hell are you doing, Marvel?"

It hurts.

"You were gonna hit Mom," he says, trying to breathe through his dad's iron grip.

"But why did _you_ run in front of her?"

"Because you were gonna hit her!"

His father shakes his head. "Marvel, this isn't your business. Go back upstairs."

"But-"

"Do it, Marvel." His mother's voice is quiet but firm. He hesitates but his face feels sore and he doesn't want to annoy his father anymore. He slinks upstairs and checks on Honor.

His mom has a similar red mark on her face later that evening. But by the next day, his parents are closer than ever and the air in the household is jovial. His father takes him to one side and apologises for scaring him. He tells him he should never step into someone else's path if that person is in danger because, in the Games, that will get him killed. He tells him that when he's older, he'll understand what happened here better. And he gives him a toy to cheer him up.

Marvel thanks him for the toy but never uses it. His father wouldn't notice because Marvel has plenty of toys. The red mark fades but Marvel doesn't think he'll ever forget that argument or his failure to protect his mother.

When he thinks about the incident, he thinks about all the paths his life could take and the path his dad wants him to take. And he wonders what will happen when he's older.

_In thirteen years' time, he will be an adult and everyone will be scared of him_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Reaping<strong>_

_In fifteen years' time, he will run a successful business and be one of the richest men in town. _

He isn't ready for his first Reaping. He's been training for years and he knows that if he's called, someone else will probably volunteer. But he's still a little panicked. If he's called and no one volunteers, he will probably die.

He's glad Honor isn't old enough to be called yet. Their mother wouldn't let her train and their father didn't think she'd ever win the Games anyway. He sometimes taunts her by being so much stronger than she is but his mother always makes him apologise. She can still make him feel bad, no matter what his father says.

They walk to the Square together. His father keeps telling him not to volunteer and Marvel is on the verge of snapping when they finally reach the place. He lets his mother hug him before he registers and wanders into the mass of twelve-year-olds. He pushes a few of the smaller kids out of the way before he reaches his friends.

"Marvel!"

"Spire!"

The boys clasp hands. Onyx, Rati and Cambric crowd nearby. These are the "popular" kids in their class. Marvel knows that a more accurate description would be that they're the feared ones. Ever since Marvel offered a truce to Spire, they've been best friends with the other guys following Spire. His mother was partly right – being nice to people worthy of respect, like Spire, works well. But fear gets him anything else he wants. So he only has to be nice to the people he wants on _his _side.

"Any of you losers volunteering now then?" Onyx asks.

"No one would – Regius Apache is volunteering this year."

"Who?"

Cambric describes Regius to Onyx. Marvel barely pays attention. He doesn't care about the current tributes, except to pick up tips off them. He has no doubt that the people who are volunteering are good – it's just, he thinks he'd be better. He beats Spire and the others most of the time. How hard could it be?

Surrounded by his friends, Marvel feels confident and he enjoys the Reaping. Regius Apache does volunteer – he's a powerfully built eighteen-year-old who just grimaces at the crowd. Seeing him, Marvel wonders if he'll ever be that strong. But he decides that doesn't matter. What Regius has in strength, he probably lacks in brains and Marvel thinks he has both.

He hopes he has both.

When Regius dies on the third day of the Games, he isn't so sure. It happens just after school – Marvel is heading to training with Spire as they see the girl from District 4 spear Regius. People around the Square groan. Marvel clenches his fists until his knuckles are white.

"You alright?" Spire asks.

"Yeah."

"Pity about Regius, right?"

"Yeah."

"Still, that's not gonna happen to us."

"Yeah?"

Spire grins. "No way. I'm awesome. And you're the best at weapons. We're both gonna win the Games."

That is their secret agreement. None of the other boys know – Spire and Marvel are going to volunteer in separate years, depending on who reaches Tribute status first. Then they'll be Victors together. Spire has never doubted that they'll do it. Marvel has never doubted it out loud. But sometimes, at night, when he's lying awake, he thinks that everything would be _easier_ if he did something else. Something he knows he'd be good at.

"You're not chickening out, are you?" Spire adds. "Come on, any idiot coulda seen that that girl was psycho. Regius was too dumb to live. And you know all the other kids are scared of us 'cause we're the top."

That isn't strictly true but Marvel doesn't let himself think that. Spire's right. Of course he's right. He's Marvel Hoffman, son of one of the most important men in town. Kids literally fall over to get out of his way. He's doing well in training and if he keeps training, he'll be the best.

And even if he doesn't volunteer for the Games, he decides later that night, he'll be powerful. He can do _anything_. Run a business. Run for mayor. Train people himself. Accumulate money and power. There are so many paths his life could take. But he isn't going to wonder too much which one it'll be because whichever one it is, he'll be happy.

_In six years' time, he will volunteer confidently for the Games and he will win._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sister<strong>_

_In twenty years' time he will still be close to his sister and will talk to her every day._

"Marvel!"

He winces as his mother comes towards him.

"Yeah?"

"Apologise to your sister."

"What for?"

"For hitting her."

"But-"

"Marvel, there's no excuse for hitting your sister."

He rolls his eyes. "Sorry, Honor."

She just sneers at him before walking out of the room. His mother looks at him. Marvel walks away, mumbling something about agreeing to meet Spire. Even though his mother has stopped forcing him to behave, he always feels a bit guilty when she looks at him with her sad eyes. He still wonders about the difference between his parents' reasons for marrying each other.

He walks out of the house and straight into his little sister. He tells her to watch where she's going and she makes a rude hand gesture in response. He considers pushing her, to make her show him some respect but he stops himself. Seeing the mark on her arm, his hand rises to his cheek and his knuckles brush pale skin, remembering a hit he once received off someone he loved.

"Sorry, Honor," he says again, but it's more sincere this time. "I lost my temper. I shouldn't have hit you."

Her expression softens slightly. "Why did you?"

"You ... you said I was stupid."

"You got in trouble for fighting again," she points out. "That _is _stupid."

"I had to fight."

"Why?"

"Look, Silver insulted me – he said I was weak. And..." Marvel stops.

"And?"

Marvel looks away. "He said you were easy."

"So?"

"_So? _So no one says that about my little sister and gets away with it."

"Why?"

"Because you're _my _little sister."

"So it's like they insulted you?"

"What? No, that's not it at all. It's ... ugh, you wouldn't understand."

She rolls her eyes. "Well then you _are_ being stupid. And arrogant. And selfish."

He starts to lunge forward, to grab her, and stops himself. He isn't supposed to hurt her. But she's always known exactly how to get under his skin. Bleakly, he thinks back to years earlier when she liked him being the big protector and when they played together all the time. Something's changed since then. Honor's gotten angrier, he thinks. Probably something to do with her growing up.

"Fine," he snaps instead. "Next time, I'll let all the boys talk about you and see how you like it."

"Sure you will."

He makes a rude gesture and storms off before he can do something stupid, like brain her with a rock. Part of him feels guilty. He loves his sister and would do anything for her. But she's so annoying and, sometimes, he wishes he was an only child.

Later, once he's returned and been told off by his mother for the fight and for running off, and congratulated by his father for teaching that Silver kid a lesson, he sneaks some sweets into Honor's room. They hug and he goes to his room to consider doing his homework (he doesn't, in the end).

He feels, more and more, like he's losing touch with his family. Not his father, who generally understands him and encourages him, but his mother who just doesn't realise why he has to fight and his sister who thinks he's just a stupid, arrogant thug. He wants to spend more and more time with Spire and the boys, maybe looking for cute girls, and less time listening to his family tell him off. But he's meant to love them and want to spend time with _them_.

He groans. There are so many paths his life could take, in relation to his family. And it scares him to wonder which one his will go down.

_In seventeen years' time, he will hate his sister because she will be married, successful and happy – everything he isn't_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Love<strong>_

_In nineteen years' time, he will have children and a wife, none of whom he will speak to very often_.

"Where you off to?" Cambric grins. "Not off to see Emerald again, are you?"

"Maybe."

Cambric and Rati laugh.

"She's got you wrapped around her little finger, mate," Rati says.

"Yeah, what happened to dumping them once they put out?" Cambric adds.

"She has _not_. It's just not the right time."

"It's never the right time to dump 'em but you do it anyway, Marv."

"Look boys. You've seen Emerald, right?" They nod. "She's gorgeous. Think about the respect I'm getting for that. It's worth putting up with her a little while longer."

They laugh and leave him to carry on walking to Emerald's house. He shakes his head. She hasn't got him wrapped around her little finger. He's Marvel Hoffman. He does whatever he wants to because no one can stop him.

He has to admit, the flowers he bought are _not_ helping his mental case.

The truth is, he's never felt this way about a girl before. Sometimes, he's enjoyed talking to girls but they were too ugly for him to be seen with them. More often, he's been with stunning girls who can barely put two sentences together. Or who repeat all of his views which starts off flattering but, secretly, irritates him.

Emerald is not only stunning: she's smart and funny. She agrees with most of his views but she's not afraid to argue with him occasionally. She comes from a good family so his dad approves. Unlike his previous girls, he'd be happy to spend all day with her.

Of course, he has a reputation to maintain. Marvel and Spire are the kings of their year. And that means if someone better comes along, he's meant to go with her, to keep up appearances.

He's just not sure if he would.

He meets Emerald, hands her the flowers and kisses her. They spend their afternoon looking around the shops. When his friends wolf-whistle, he thumps Onyx.

Three months later, she breaks up with him. She doesn't love him anymore, she says. But he hears off Spire, later, that her father told her to start seeing Bismuth Schwarz. And he sees her around the District with Bismuth's stupid arm around her. He grins oafishly. She tries to smile. It fails. But she makes no attempt to get back with him.

Spire and the boys tell him there are plenty of gorgeous girls out there and he tries to get his act together. Tries to remember that she was only a girl. But what he really wants to do is kill Bismuth Schwarz and kill Emerald's father. Just thinking about it makes him mad enough to punch a nearby wall. The bruises on his knuckles still don't hurt as much as the pain in his chest.

He gets with other girls to restore his image. But for a long time, he feels empty inside. He wonders if he'll ever meet another girl like Emerald. Plenty of other fish in the sea, his father says. Once he's a Victor, he'll meet plenty of other girls, all of whom will do anything to be with him.

He tries to imagine his future with each girl he sleeps with. Somehow, it's never as satisfying as what he imagined with Emerald. No matter what the girl is like. He thinks back to the reasons his parents married each other. He's still wondering about the difference.

There are so many paths his life could go down but he can't even think of the girl who'll be with him. He wonders which one his life will take and whether he'll end up like his father or like his mother.

_In sixty years' time, he will sit in his house, his fingers brushing his wife's hand as they look over their children and grandchildren in pure, wedded bliss._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Death<strong>_

_In four years' time, he and Spire will be victors and mentors, the most powerful of the powerful_.

To Marvel's annoyance, Spire beats him when they're seventeen and agrees to volunteer for the Games first. It's not that Marvel wanted to volunteer at the age of seventeen because he'd prefer the extra year of training. It's a pride thing. Marvel is supposed to be the _best_. Spire was never meant to be able to beat him.

He is the last to say goodbye to Spire. If Spire's scared, he doesn't show it. He grins his cocky grin and tells Marvel that he'll be back in no time. Marvel laughs and says he's already betting on how long it will be until Spire's killed. And Spire just smiles because, for all of Marvel's faults, Spire knows he doesn't want his best friend to die.

The gang feels empty without Spire around. He's very much the life and soul of the group. Spire's always been the joking one – Marvel's been the charming one. But Marvel, Rati, Onyx and Cambric have been through too many years together for much to change. They watch the Games and sneer at the tributes. Cambric asks why Spire volunteered so early and Marvel just says that he's an attention-seeking bastard who wanted to rub his status in their faces. None of them question that Spire might lose.

Spire dies on the penultimate day of the Games: the girl from District 8 stabs him, just as she is beheaded by the girl from District 2.

It's so sudden that Marvel barely takes it in.

"Was that..."

"Yeah," Marvel says. "It was."

The boys look at each other.

"But that means-"

"He's dead," Marvel finishes and he's surprised by how blunt his voice sounds. "There was always a possibility."

But there wasn't and Marvel knows that. Spire was supposed to win. They were going to be victors together.

Marvel won't speak to anyone for the next few days. His family stop trying to talk to him. Not that they made many attempts. His sister barely speaks to him anymore.

But when he's out and he hears Silver mocking Spire's death, he punches him and keeps punching him until his knuckles are bloody and people are pulling him off Silver's unconscious form. It doesn't make him feel better.

His father asks if this means he's going to stop training. Marvel says no. Spire wouldn't want his best friend to give up and he can win _for_ Spire. He can live out the dream for both of them. He knows Spire was one of the strongest candidates but he will use this year to be _better_. And he thinks he can do it because he's supposed to be Marvel Hoffman. He should be able to do anything.

His fake confidence falls away when he watches a replay of Spire's death. But he keeps his cocky grin because, even now, he always has to show confidence. And he keeps training and doing all of the things Spire loved to do until, once again, he _is_ Marvel Hoffman and he _can_ do anything. He just has to remember that.

He's not going to end up like Spire, he vows. Once he's won, there are so many paths his life can go down. And he wonders which one Spire would want him to take in his solo journey.

_In one year's time, he will be the victor of the 74__th__ Hunger Games and Spire's memory will live on._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Games<strong>_

_In ten years' time, he will regret the way he has treated people and the lives he has taken_.

Marvel doesn't dream of the people he killed in the bloodbath. He doesn't know if that should worry him or not. He'd never killed before. But it wasn't that much different from beating them into unconsciousness and leaving them in the street. He still got the same rush of power.

He gets the impression that most of the Careers don't think much of him. It's like always. Everyone _always_ thinks he's a stupid, arrogant idiot. But he's never seen the point in being modest if you're as great as he is. And, besides, it shows weakness. And showing weakness is to _be_ weak and that's when people hit you and you accept it.

Perhaps they'll underestimate him. That'll make his job easier.

He considers his fellow Careers.

Cato is the self-declared leader of the group. Marvel doesn't like that – he's never been one for taking orders. Cato is huge and a psychopath. Marvel intends to kill him as soon as possible: best not to leave him till last.

Clove is just as homicidal as Cato as well as sarcastic and brutal. She doesn't appreciate his charm. But anyone can see what she thinks of Cato and he's sure he can manipulate that.

Zita is just stupid. Stupid and ugly. He's surprised she wasn't the one who died in the bloodbath. She'll probably get herself killed before Marvel has to worry about it.

Peeta is a lovesick idiot.

And Glimmer ... Glimmer reminds him of Emerald. She's stunning and feisty. But there's something else to her – something calmer and more innocent. Part of him wishes they'd met before the Games. But too late now. He knows what girls like her do – they go off with other guys because their father told them to. No pride. For her, he will reserve a _special_ death.

People are worried about the girl from District 12 but he's not too bothered. She just got lucky. He knows how to deal with lucky people.

He grins as he looks around the lake and cracks his knuckles. He's going to win, he can feel it. There's no way this group of imbeciles can beat him, and no one else in the Arena is a threat. And then he can go back to District 1, claim his money and power and be famous. And slip into District 3, of course, to get revenge for that girl.

There are so many paths his life can take now. And he can't wait to go down them.

_In seventeen years' time, he will still boast about his exploits in the Games to all around him_.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Paths<strong>_

He can see them as the arrow embeds itself in his throat. All the paths his life could have taken. From his childhood dreams of being the Mayor to his teenage visions of living a quiet life somewhere with a beautiful girl. Lying in the street, drunk and homeless. Living in a mansion, rich and powerful.

Visiting Honor every day. Disowning his family. Running a business with Spire. Arguing with Cambric. Being the Godfather of Rati's kids. Winning Emerald back. Killing Bismuth. Winning the Games. Being a mentor.

He shuts his eyes as his left hand pulls the arrow out and the knuckles on his right hand brush the place where his father once hit him.

There are no more paths for his life to take.

It was never supposed to go down this one.

_**Fin**_


End file.
